


Hand, Heart

by htbthomas



Category: Forever (TV)
Genre: Bittersweet, Childhood Memories, Established Relationship, F/M, Forever Ficathon, Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-31 13:11:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6471208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/htbthomas/pseuds/htbthomas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A precious item from Henry's past takes on new meaning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hand, Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to LadySilver, for the idea as well as the beta!

Jo takes a sip of her wine, her eyes skittering away from Abe's. The way he keeps giving her secretive looks, he's going to blow it long before she can get Henry alone. Henry, bless him, hasn't seemed to notice so far, regaling them both with tales of the mischief he got up to as a boy back in late-eighteenth century England.

"...and then the housemaid caught me trying to wash my trousers in the basin, but of course I had no idea what I was doing…"

"You still don't," Abe declares, setting his wine glass down with a thunk. Nodding at Jo, he adds, "He claims not to understand how our high efficiency washer works. I keep saying I should get him a washboard."

Henry laughs, but doesn't deny it. "I know it's no excuse, especially now, but much of my life someone else did it for me."

"Or you only had one set of clothes to your name." 

Henry nods at Jo. He's told her so much about the hard years, the years when he was in jail, or committed, or stealing just to get a decent meal. His voice is always calm and detached, but his eyes can't hide the pain of the memories. 

She hopes tonight's surprise ends in a happy trip down memory lane.

Abe stands then, holding out his hand for Jo's plate. "Time to for me to clean up. As _usual_." He tugs at Henry's plate with a little more force than necessary.

Jo turns a look of shock on Henry. "Don't tell me you'll make him do the dishes, too. After he cooked!"

Henry splutters a little. "I usually do the dishes—really now, Abe, there is such a thing as taking a joke too far."

Jo smiles at Abe. She knows what the plan is, but it's fun to discomfit Henry after all the many times he's done the same to her. Abe nudges Henry with a shoulder, his arms full of plates. "Nah, I got it this time. Go into the sitting room and relax. Think of it as my little gift to you two."

Jo has to gently lead him away, because he won't give up without a fight. But she gets him settled on the sofa quickly enough, distracting him with, "So if you had servants for everything, what did your mother do?"

Henry's eyes go soft and sad. He has talked a lot about his father, but not about his mother. She's suspected that it is a painful subject, and his reaction proves it. "Managed the servants and the household, I would assume. There was a fair amount of bookkeeping and correspondence for a woman of that time."

"Assume?" she prods.

"I didn't know her well." He pauses. "She passed on before I was out of the nursery."

"Henry," she says, putting a hand on his arm, "I'm sorry."

He covers her hand with his, stroking gently as if she were the one that needed comforting. "It's been a long time. Literally, in my case." His gaze is turned toward their joined hands, but there's an unspoken sadness there. 

"Do you have anything of hers?" she asks to draw him out.

He had spent so much of the last few months telling her about his history and she still didn't know it all. It would probably take years. Abe had told her that Henry had spent much of the past few years in the antique business collecting what he could of the Morgan family heirlooms, now that his family's fortunes in England were a thing of the past. And she'd asked about this piece or that in the shop, wondering if it had personal meaning. After several replies of, 'nothing really, it's just a piece for sale, though it does have a fascinating history…' she stopped asking. Looking around the apartment, she suspects that everything with personal value is here instead.

"I have a few of my mother's things." Rising from the sofa to go to the bookshelf, he pulls a thin volume from the highest shelf with careful fingers, brings it back to her and places it in her hands. "This is my favorite."

The leather cover has no markings, and there aren't many pages. When she opens it, she sees that it is filled with writing in a precise hand. "These are her words?" The handwriting is very similar to Henry's.

"Yes. A journal, written before she was married to my father. Filled with dreams for the future." A sad look passes briefly across his face. "I read it sometimes to think about what our relationship might have been, if she'd lived."

Jo spends a few minutes flipping through the entries. She'd like to read them, but not now. "May I take it with me?"

To his credit, he doesn't hesitate. "Of course."

She lifts her bag from the chair where she'd placed it, and places the journal inside. Right beside the small box she'd placed there earlier. She can still hear Abe banging around with the dishes. Should she wait for him to give it to Henry? After all, he'd been the one to track it down for her. Or should she use this chance to get a private moment?

As if he could read her thoughts, Abe's voice comes from the kitchen. "How's it going in there? Don't wait on my account."

She chuckles. Okay, then. She lifts it out and settles it in her palm. "I guess now is as good a time as any."

When she turns to him, Henry wears a puzzled frown. But she just sits beside him, the box clutched in her palm. He waits as she takes a breath. This was supposed to be fun, Abe helping her find something of Henry's that was long lost, but suddenly the gesture has so much weight.

"I found something that belonged to your mother—or actually, Abe helped me find it—I hope it brings back pleasant memories instead of bittersweet ones." 

She places the box in his hand, and he turns it over a couple of times before lifting the lid. When he sees what's inside, he lets out an audible gasp. "No…" His voice is almost awed. "How did you find this?"

He lifts it from the box: his mother's wedding band, a simple posy ring. "It was actually still in the family, some of your more distant cousins had it. I don't think they knew its full history. With a little money and Abe's silver tongue…"

"I never thought I'd see it again," he says, turning it in his fingers to see the polished metal catch the light. "Not after…" His face went soft and sad again.

Oh no, there was the expression she'd been hoping to erase. "What?"

He shook his head slightly back and forth. "I tried to give it to Nora, and she refused. It was too old for her tastes, passed down for a couple of generations. She wanted something newly made."

"May I?" Jo examines it again, though she'd looked at it many times since Abe had found it. Rotating it, she rereads the inscription: _Hand, Heart, and All I Have is Thine_. "It's lovely—I can't imagine anyone refusing this."

"In a way, it's fortunate." At her questioning look, he explains, "If she hadn't, it would not still be in Morgan family hands. I shudder to think what she might have done with it after I—" He stopped, but she knew what he meant. After he'd died, reawakened and been committed. "But that's all ancient history now," he says with a self-deprecating smirk.

Abe's voice comes from behind. "Time to give it some new history, I think." She hadn't noticed the quiet in the kitchen; she'd been so focused on Henry and his reaction.

Henry's face goes still for a moment, as he seems to realize something. "Abraham... you didn't... not just to..." His lips open and close a couple of times. Jo's not sure she's ever seen Henry this speechless.

"Well, why not? You've been dithering about it for long enough. That one's too gaudy, that one's too basic, that one's too impersonal..."

Jo's heart is starting to beat a little bit fast. She looks at the ring again, turning it over in her hand, not really knowing what else to do. 

"Jo," Henry says. "This is not the way I had meant to do this—"

"If you ever were at all," Abe grumbles under his breath, but still loud enough for Jo to hear.

Henry takes the ring gently from her palm. "Jo..." He swallows. "It would mean the world to mean if _you_ would accept this ring." He holds it out toward her, pinched between his thumb and forefinger. "Will you marry me?"

Jo's eyes go wide and she looks at Abe for a shocked moment. "Was all of this a setup?"

Abe shrugs. "Does it matter? He's been ring shopping; you were looking for something of his mother's… Serendipity."

She shakes her head, incredulous. "I can see _both_ of the Morgan men are going to take some getting used to."

Abe laughs, a hearty blast of joy. But when she turns to Henry, he's quiet and almost nervous. "I take it… that's a yes?"

An uncontrollable laugh bubbles out of her as well. Then she pulls him toward her to kiss him soundly. Of course it's a yes—she'll tell him that as soon as she can catch her breath.


End file.
